


Sunlight

by Harp_of_Gold



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness, Build Up A New Us verse, Comfort, Discussions of Past Trauma, First Time, Forest Sex, Frottage, Healing, M/M, Maeglin being Maeglin, Making Out, Oral Sex, Polyamorous relationship, Re-embodied elves, Rediscovery, Self-Esteem Issues, fallen banners, fourth age valinor, mentions of torture, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:14:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24404893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harp_of_Gold/pseuds/Harp_of_Gold
Summary: It's springtime in Valinor, and Maeglin and Celebrimbor's affection for each other is deepening. Maeglin is ready to explore sex again, if he can only get out of his own way long enough for it to happen.
Relationships: Celebrimbor | Telperinquar/Maeglin | Lómion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74





	Sunlight

**Author's Note:**

> This is set concurrently with chapters 66-68 of my fic Build Up A New Us. The important points if you haven't read it are:  
> -Celebrimbor and Maeglin were friends with benefits in Gondolin.  
> -Maeglin betrayed Gondolin unwillingly and under torture. He still blames himself.  
> -It is a few years after the War of the Ring. Celebrimbor has reconciled with a deeply repentant Mairon. They're very much in love.  
> -He's seeing Maeglin with Mairon's full knowledge and blessing.
> 
> Title from the song I played on repeat while writing this, Hozier's [Sunlight](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=PELeEo33JXs/)

A late snow was melting around the violets. Celebrimbor had thrown a cloak over the damp bench in Fingon’s garden, and Maeglin sat beside him under a bower of bare vines. The swelling buds at their tips declared that they wouldn’t appear brown and dead much longer. Celebrimbor nuzzled against Maeglin’s neck, and he turned back to him with a little smile. A faint wisp of _“this should be Idril”_ arose in his mind and as quickly faded. Every day the uncomfortable need he’d always felt toward her slipped farther away, and he was glad to see it go. It had only ever held him back from finding joy in other places. Like the grey depths of Tyelpë’s eyes that shone on him with such tender happiness. _I don’t deserve you,_ he thought. _I am dirtied and bloodstained, and my hands have wrought far more destruction than good. I can’t help but soil you by my touch…_ He tried to let go of those thoughts, too. It wasn’t fair to Tyelpë to doubt his judgment, and Tyelpë wanted this. Wanted him. 

Tyelpë slid his thumb across Maeglin’s cheek, and Maeglin shivered. His fingers were calloused from hours in the forge, and Maeglin wondered how they’d feel on the rest of his body. “You’re very quiet. Are they good thoughts, or bad ones?”

“I’m always quiet; had you forgotten? Dying didn’t fix that.” _Fuck._ That had come out too sharp and too hostile, yet again. But somehow, Tyelpë was grinning. 

“Dying doesn’t fix much, does it? Half your problems are still waiting when you get back.”

“Quicker than a boat trip to get to Aman, I suppose. But the choice of lodgings is less than satisfactory.”

Tyelpë leaned forward and brushed his lips against Maeglin’s ear. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. I just wasn’t sure if it was the comfortable kind of silence or not.”

“I can think of a better kind.” Maeglin was so close to his lips already, and he’d thought the impulse would carry him through, but he hesitated, suddenly afraid Tyelpë wouldn’t want to kiss him after all. Tyelpë’s hand slipped behind his head, steadying him, and his touch sent shivers of desire through his body. Tyelpë closed the little distance between them. His kiss was gentle but sure, and Maeglin parted his lips, showing Tyelpë he could be soft and pliant too. He moaned quietly into Tyelpë’s mouth, letting him lay claim, their tongues sliding together, all sweetness and softness and warmth, and when he bit down on Tyelpë’s lip, he seemed pleased, and he bit back harder, the way Maeglin liked it. It was intensely good, and Maeglin wanted more. He climbed onto Tyelpë’s lap and pushed him back against the bower, kissing fiercely while Tyelpë gasped and pulled him closer.

“We could move this inside,” Tyelpë said breathlessly when Maeglin came up for air. “Maedhros is the only one home, and he won’t care if we slip upstairs and borrow one of the guest rooms.”

“Shameless.” Maeglin shoved him playfully. “You’d fuck someone with your uncle just downstairs?”

“There are worse places.”

“There are _always_ worse places. There are also better ones.” He retreated and sat beside Tyelpë again. “Actually…umm. It’ll be my first time since, y’know. Living again.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to push if you’re not ready. Or…if you don’t want it to be with me…just tell me what you want; I won’t be offended. I do want you, but I want you to be happy and comfortable more.” Tyelpë looked earnest and worried now. 

“Tyelpë. You’re so _nice_ it hurts.”

“You have awfully low standards for what constitutes ‘nice,’ you do know that?”

“Yeah. I know.” Maeglin was quiet for a long moment, and Tyelpë let him be. “I think I want to do this. Us. I think I’m ready. I want to make it something special, though.”

“Of course.” Tyelpë put his arm around Maeglin and snugged him against his side, and Maeglin basked in how good it felt to be touched like this, to be held, to be cared for and shown it so easily. “Do you know what you’d like to do? _Outside_ of bed, I mean. To make it a special time.” He narrowed his eyes at Maeglin, who had drawn breath to describe all sorts of delicious obscenities. He closed his mouth, blushing. “Mm, that's what I thought. Naughty.”

Maeglin pretended to be distracted by the robins strutting about and scratching for worms. Voices drifted from the house, raised in cheerful greetings and laughter. More of the Fëanorions arriving. It still seemed surreal to have been so fully and instantly welcomed among them. They felt more like family than Turgon ever had. Even Fëanor himself had met him with a hearty embrace and a standing offer to spend time together in the forge.

Tyelpë followed his gaze. “I think I hear my Atya.”

Maeglin nodded. “Naneth said she'd come tonight since she'd be in town.” He elbowed Tyelpë in the ribs. “See, we didn't have time to sneak upstairs after all.” 

“I suppose not. Let's go say hello.” He pulled Maeglin to his feet and retrieved his cloak, pausing to kiss him fondly on the cheek.

“I'll think about what you asked,” Maeglin murmured softly.

Tyelpë smiled.

*

Maeglin loved being among them, he really did, but finally it got to be too much—Celegorm's loud laugh, Curufin's biting commentary, Maedhros pushing more food toward him, Aredhel arguing with Amrod and Amras over whose style of arrow fletching was superior. He got up as silently as he could and slipped out to the back porch. Tyelpë seemed to understand, for he had plenty of time to lean over the rail alone, letting the cool night air wash over him and soothe him, before Tyelpë joined him there.

“You all right?” he asked softly.

“Yeah. I just needed some space. Too many people.” Tyelpë caressed his neck, and Maeglin leaned into the touch. “Look up, Tyelpë. There's so many stars tonight.” They glittered in great masses across the sky, the smallest ones blurring together in streaks of light punctuated with larger ones like shining gems. Tyelpë put his arms around Maeglin and pulled him close against his chest. They stood like that together a while, gazing up in wonder. Tyelpë's arms were warm, and the rise and fall of his breath brought Maeglin comfort and lightened his heart. “Out in the forest,” he murmured.

“Hmm?”

“That's what I want. To be out in the forest somewhere, just you and me and trees for miles and miles around, and nothing and no one to remind me that anyone else even exists. Somewhere quiet and green.”

“Then that's where we’ll go.”

*

The trees were greening with new young leaves, and trilliums bloomed across the forest floor when Tyelpë invited Maeglin to spend the day with him. They rode away from Tirion's white walls that spoke too much of Gondolin, and wandered under boughs hung with moss. Maeglin watched Tyelpë as they rode, taking in everything about him—the graceful way he sat a horse, glimpses of muscle where his clothes shifted and clung, the ease of his smile. How that smile had survived everything that had been done to him, Maeglin couldn't imagine. He had nothing like it. But then, he'd never smiled so profligately even before Angband. Tyelpë caught him looking and winked. They’d come to a more open stretch where the remains of an old road, unused for many years, left a clear path. 

“Keep up!” Tyelpë called, and he urged his horse to a gallop. Not willing to be outdone, Maeglin pushed his after him, perching forward in the saddle and taking every little shortcut until he passed him and raced ahead. Tyelpë caught up again, laughing in surprise, and they ran beside each other, the horses vying for the lead. Exhilaration coursed through Maeglin with the wind in his face, and when the trees closed in again and forced them to slow, he found he was smiling too.

“So are we headed somewhere in particular, or just enjoying these woods? This whole stretch is gorgeous.” Spiraled ferns were unfurling beneath their horses’ hooves, and birds sang overhead.

“I hoped you'd like it. There's a waterfall and a little pool not much farther. I thought I'd show it to you.”

“It's still too cold to swim,” Maeglin pointed out.

“Yes, but I wasn’t planning to get in the water.”

The waterfall tumbled from high granite boulders, filling the little hollow with its song. Maeglin eyed their surroundings appraisingly. They were sheltered from view in every direction by the earth’s rise, and the steep sides of the hollow meant the only practicable approach was where they’d come from along the stream banks. Defensible, but without an easy escape… He shook his head. He didn't need to worry about that here. Tyelpë had retrieved a quilt and a basket from his horse, and was spreading the quilt between the ferns. He came over and took Maeglin in his arms. “Is it what you were imagining?”

 _Could he possibly mean when we talked in the garden?_ It had been on Maeglin’s mind all day. _He hasn't_ said _that's what this is…_ “Hmm? It's a waterfall…”

“I meant…” Tyelpë sighed. “Come sit with me?”

 _Idiot. What's he supposed to think now?_ Maeglin’s stomach twisted. He'd definitely made Tyelpë unhappy. He followed him to the quilt and tried not to take up too much of it. Maybe Tyelpë was already regretting bringing him out here. He never should have pushed for so much. Tyelpë had someone in his life, and Maeglin could only complicate things. He should have stuck with friendship; maybe he could have successfully figured that out.

Tyelpë's gentle voice broke through the downward spiral of his thoughts. “I brought something for you. I know you used to love these; I hope that hasn’t changed.” He uncovered the basket. It was full of tiny crimson strawberries. 

“Tyelpë! Where’d you even…It's too early for strawberries.”

“I have connections.” He smiled. “Aunt Anairë grows them in her glasshouse. She sent them.”

“Oh.” She was his grandmother, and he still hadn’t found the guts to introduce himself. After his attempted reconciliation with Turgon had ended so badly, it hadn’t seemed possible.

“Hey, I didn't mean to make you sad.”

“It's…one more thing I can't have. Who cares? You meant to enjoy these with me, so let's do, and not bring all that into it.”

“I’d stay right beside you if you ever wanted to see them,” Tyelpë offered quietly. “You deserve to know your grandparents. They ask about you.”

 _Shit. Shitshitshit._ Now Maeglin was going to cry, and he didn't need Tyelpë to see. He tucked away the last of his hopes of getting laid. It seemed a bit over the top to bring him all the way out here only to pester him about family, but he wouldn't put it past him. “Can we just…not have this conversation?” 

“Sorry.” Tyelpë at least made a good show of looking contrite. “I really didn't want to make you uncomfortable.” He eased closer, almost as if approaching a wild animal that might bolt at any moment. Leaning over carefully, he kissed the dampness from the corners of Maeglin’s eyes. Maeglin turned his head, he hoped not brusquely enough to make Tyelpë think he was angry. He couldn't take Tyelpë's pity right now. 

“Can we forget I said any of that?” Tyelpë asked. He sounded halfway to despair himself.

Maeglin shrugged. “You know what? I know you mean well. So fine. You brought me all the way out here, let's discuss my issues with family and how much I worry them and disappoint them and how scared I am that actually seeing them won't change that at all. Though I will say, it was rather underhanded of you, and I'll likely be impressed next week when it isn't so fresh.”

Tyelpë's eyes were wide with shock and hurt. “Maeglin, I didn't…I was trying to give you your special day.”

“Of course you were. Fuck.”

“That was the plan.” Tyelpë smiled wryly.

“I thought…I wondered, but you didn't _say_ anything, and I thought…I always expect too much and need too much and assume too much, and I didn't…and then you…fuck, Tyelpë—”

Cupping his cheek with exceeding gentleness, Tyelpë kissed him.

“I'm sorry,” Maeglin whispered. “I know I'm a pain.”

“You’re not.”

“Is there any way we could still—” 

“Do you still want to? If I've already ruined the mood too much…”

“I asked, didn't I?” He took one of the berries and popped it into his mouth with a defiant glance. The tart sweetness was so rich and full that he let out a little sound of pleasure, and Tyelpë smirked. “Don't make that face at me.” He pushed one between Tyelpë's lips. “See? You can't help it, either.”

“I wasn’t complaining…” His lips met Maeglin's softly, and his hand slipped under Maeglin’s shirt as their tongues slid together, sweet with fruit. As he withdrew he offered Maeglin another berry, and when Maeglin ate it from his fingers he was consumed with a fierce hunger. Vána herself could not have shone more with spring than Tyelpë did in that moment, and Maeglin wanted him, to be filled with his warmth and light and kindness so badly he ached, and he didn't know what he would ever have to give in return. He reached with trembling fingers to loosen the laces of Tyelpë’s shirt.

“Is this okay?” he asked, hesitating before he pushed it up.

“Very.” Tyelpë tugged his boots off and helped Maeglin get the shirt over his head before reaching for Maeglin’s clothes in turn.

Maeglin distracted himself from the discomfort of being revealed by concentrating on Tyelpë. He didn't recall it being so hard before Mairon had thoroughly retrained his expectations of what came with nakedness. He tried to ignore the sense of imminent danger and instead traced the pale lines that gleamed faintly on Tyelpë's brown skin. “Are these from…no, I shouldn't bring it up. Sorry.”

“No, we should probably talk about it.” Tyelpë shifted to sit beside him. “Those are scars from when I was tortured—the ones I couldn't forget enough to let go of, at least—and I'm mostly good with being touched now, but there's always the chance you'll stumble on something that will make me panic, and it's not your fault if I do.”

“And you manage to sleep with _him?”_ Maeglin wasn’t sure if the frisson that went through him was arousal or jealousy. He didn't think it was disgust.

“Mairon's been unfailingly careful and kind. I wouldn't have stayed if he'd shown me the slightest inclination otherwise.”

“I'm glad. Let's not speak of him, though. Not today.”

“It isn't quite that easy. Is there anything I need to know? Things that will bother you, or remind you of what you don't want to remember?”

Maeglin pulled his knees to his chest and wished they’d discussed this before so it didn't have to cast a shadow on the bright afternoon. “I don't know. I couldn't handle being bound, but I doubt you had anything like that in mind. Really…feeling powerless is the worst thing I can I think of. I can't imagine anything you would do to make me feel that way.”

Tyelpë nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for telling me. Umm…I do best if I can always see where you are, so…if you wanted to fuck me from behind or something, that's probably not going to happen.”

“Actually, I was kind of hoping you'd fuck me.”

“Were you, now?” Tyelpë purred. “How about you show me what you want?”

Maeglin grinned and reached for Tyelpë's hands. That sounded like permission to be needy if he pleased, and he wasn't going to turn it down. “I want your hands on me”—he placed Tyelpë's palms on his chest—“and your mouth on me”—he slid a hand into Tyelpë's hair and gently pushed him toward his neck—“and…oh Tyelpë! Tyelpë!!” 

Tyelpë had kissed his way up Maeglin’s throat, nibbling at the sensitive spot just beneath his jaw, and then he licked the edge of Maeglin's ear and sucked the tip into his mouth, caressing it with lips and tongue, letting his teeth graze the point, sending shudders through Maeglin’s body. His thumbs brushed over Maeglin’s nipples and drew little circles on them. Sensation drowned him; it was so much all at once that he couldn't stand it.

He jerked away, and Tyelpë immediately pulled back. “You all right?”

“Yeah. Just too much.” Maeglin drew a few deep breaths. “Can we try that again and go slow?”

Tyelpë's smile warmed the empty places inside him. “I’d love to.” He clasped Maeglin’s hips and guided him onto his lap. “Here. Let's try it like this.”

Sitting astride Tyelpë, pressed against his chest, Maeglin felt safe and grounded. They shared a long kiss that only grew in hunger. Tyelpë caressed him with firm, reassuring touches that awoke his body without overwhelming him. Tyelpë was fast growing hard as he ground against him, and he wanted desperately to feel Tyelpë's cock against his. Reaching between them he unfastened Tyelpë’s breeches and freed first Tyelpë’s length and then his own. He stroked Tyelpë, enjoying the silky weight of him and his eager moans. As he rolled his hips and slid against him, he caught his breath at how good it felt. Tyelpë was looking at him with open adoration, his eyes dark and cheeks flushed with desire. Tyelpë’s hands tightened on him. “Please don't stop,” he whispered. He was thrusting against him in return, clinging to him, and Maeglin couldn't remember ever feeling so wanted or so turned on. Pleasure gripped him all at once, and he cried out as he came hard, hiding his face in Tyelpë's shoulder and spilling over his cock. He could tell Tyelpë was close too from his desperate little breaths and the jerky shudders of his hips as he tried to restrain himself for Maeglin's sake. Maeglin took them both in hand and stroked, squeezing a little, slicking his come over the heads of their cocks as he rode out the aftershocks of his own orgasm and pushed Tyelpë over the edge.

They stretched out side by side, breathless and happy, and Tyelpë groaned when Maeglin raised his hand to his lips and licked it clean of their mingled come. “Fucking _hell,_ Maeglin, do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

Smirking, Maeglin caught a drop that had run down his wrist and followed its path with his tongue. “Something might have given it away.” He rolled onto his side and rested his hand on Tyelpë's cock, which was twitching with interest and trying to fully harden again. Lazily he traced the veins up and down. However sexy Tyelpë found him could never match the way Tyelpë was offering himself to his whims, letting him tease needy whimpers from him and entice him to buck his hips, only to withdraw his touch as Tyelpë sought more. Tyelpë's hands were fisted in the quilt, and he quivered as Maeglin bent over him with a gentle kiss. “Something you want, there?”

“Anything, please! Your mouth, your hand—anything; it's not enough—” 

“You ask so very prettily,” Maeglin husked. He started with tiny, barely there licks up Tyelpë's shaft and held him down when he tried to thrust, before realizing that might not be a good idea. But when he glanced up to check, Tyelpë was biting back a moan, gazing at him with fire and longing in his eyes. Maeglin decided he'd suffered enough and took his cock in his mouth. He savored the salty taste as he lavished pleasure upon him, cupping his balls and massaging them gently while he swallowed him down almost to the point of gagging.

“Maeglin…” Tyelpë's hand was in his hair, not pulling, but gripping and releasing as if he could barely help himself. “Maeglin, if you still want me to fuck you…”

Maeglin pulled off and rubbed his lips over Tyelpë's leaking tip, smearing them with precome. “What's that? You're about to come again?”

Tyelpë growled and tightened his grip on Maeglin’s hair, but at Maeglin’s gasp he let go as if he'd been burned. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”

“No, that was…that was a good sound.” Maeglin sat up and leaned into Tyelpë's open arms. “I think I still like it a little rough.”

“Yeah?” Tyelpë was tracing the lines of his back, and Maeglin loved it and wished his hands were elsewhere at the same time.

“Mmhmm. I trust you, Tyelpë. I don't feel the least bit trapped when I'm with you.” 

Watching his eyes closely, Tyelpë grasped his hair again and held him tight and unmoving. After a moment in which time seemed suspended, he closed the distance and plundered Maeglin's mouth, kissing him deeply, biting his lip, devouring him until Maeglin was half-gone with delight and achingly hard.

“There's oil in my bag over there.” 

It took Maeglin a few breaths to clear his head enough to take in the direction and find the saddlebag nestled in the leaves beside the quilt. When he returned with it, he realized Tyelpë had needed time to regain his composure at least as much as Maeglin had. He grinned. “You sure you can keep up with me?” Tyelpë just scoffed. Uncorking the bottle, Maeglin poured a little oil onto his fingers and leaned back to spread it between his legs, hoping it made a good show.

Tyelpë pounced on the oil and slicked up his own fingers and his cock. “Here, I've got you.” He leaned over Maeglin, kissing down his chest and sucking the head of his cock, swirling his tongue around it while he worked a finger inside him. Maeglin had liked to be fucked fast and hard, and had never cared for lengthy preparation, but today he felt himself tense at the gentle intrusion. Tyelpë glanced up at him and kept rubbing slowly, teasing the rim of his entrance. “Does that feel good?”

“Mmm…” He wasn’t sure. It didn't _not_ feel good. He knew he liked it, but that was more of a background idea right now. It felt like asking him to bare himself, like letting Tyelpë in would reveal all the ways in which he’d never been enough. He didn't want to ask for more, but he didn't want to give up, either. “Do you think…could you come up here and hold me?”

“Of course.”

Resting against Tyelpë's chest, enveloped in his arms and his scent, Maeglin relaxed. “I do still want you in me,” he murmured.

“That's good, because I really want to feel you around me.” Tyelpë turned his chin and kissed him, and at the taste of himself on Tyelpë’s tongue, Maeglin moaned. Shifting so that Tyelpë could reach him, he guided Tyelpë’s hand to his entrance. He shivered as Tyelpë slid one, then another finger into him, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. He clenched and rocked gently on Tyelpë's fingers. His body was remembering why he'd enjoyed this sensation so much—the slight burn, the feeling of opening, the thrill of wrong-but-so-very-right. Then Tyelpë crooked his fingers, and he gasped. 

“Please, Tyelpë, more, I want you, I want this, I need you—” 

“Gonna give you all you want,” Tyelpë husked in his ear. “Lie down for me, beautiful.” Maeglin settled on his side, Tyelpë’s arms still surrounding him. He wondered briefly if he should insist on his space, but they felt more protective than constricting, and Maeglin was comforted. He dug his fingers into Tyelpë's forearm as he slowly pushed into him, filling him, stretching him, brushing over that spot that flared with pleasure. Tyelpë rested a moment once he was fully inside, then began to move with long, slow, dragging thrusts while Maeglin keened and swore and begged for it never to end. He loved the ache of it, the edge of almost too much every time Tyelpë filled him to the hilt, the way pleasure mounted and swelled until he felt like he would burst. Just when he thought he could take it no longer, Tyelpë's hand closed around his cock. The welcome pressure wrung more gasps from him, and Tyelpë sped up, fucking him with surety that scarce hid his driving need. Maeglin let go and let it overcome him. He floated in ecstasy, every stroke drawing it out further, and he felt Tyelpë shudder and close his teeth on his shoulder as he flooded Maeglin with seed.

Maeglin came back to himself slowly. Sunlight filled his vision, dappled and golden and rich. His body felt warmly content and a little sore. He could live with that. Tyelpë was draped over him. He'd napped a bit too, it seemed. He stirred when Maeglin shifted, though Maeglin tried not to wake him. “Hey, you.” He kissed Maeglin softly. “How’re you feeling? Think you'll be up to heading back in a bit?”

“Ugghh. Remind me why I thought riding way out into the wilderness to get fucked was a good idea?”

“We don't have go right away. We can rest a while longer.”

“Mm. Where did those strawberries get to?”

“You mean these?” Tyelpë held one above his head, but pulled it away when he reached for it.

“Tyelpë, what—” It reappeared at his lips, and Maeglin rolled his eyes and bit into it. 

Tyelpë's smile was as bright as the light shining on his hair. “Let me take care of you? Just for a while?”

“Well, if it makes you happy, I suppose.” He grinned and reached up to caress Tyelpë's cheek. “As long as you'll let me return the favor sometime.” He opened his mouth and let Tyelpë feed him another. His heart was full to overflowing, not with longing but with joy, and he wondered if this was love.


End file.
